Hosker, G [Sword of Cartimandua 00.5] Ulpius Felix- Warrior of Rome (4 page)

The Prefect smiled, “Then I think after the evening meal we can begin their language lessons eh?” He walked up to one man and tapped him on the shoulder.  The warrior obviously thought he had been given an honour and grinned broadly to everyone.  Marius continued down the line finally touching the warrior who was standing next to Wolf.

As he returned to Flavius he said, “I would stand to the side gentlemen, this could get messy.” He nodded to Flavius.  “Right then Decurion, tell them where to go.”

“You will all choose a line to stand behind.  When I tell you to move then join one.” Some of them looked confused whilst others looked confident; Flavius decided that as long as one or two went the rest would get the message. “Go!”

Wolf had worked out what this meant and he ran, yelling at the others, “Follow me!”

Used to following orders the others all ran and Wolf was behind the warrior on the end who turned an looked at him in surprise. “I hope that you are not a bum boy!”

Wolf snorted.  “If I was I would choose a nicer arse than yours, don’t flatter yourself.”

The man laughed, “Spirit; I like that.  I am Cava.”

“And I am Wolf!”

“Well Wolf, in my village they called me Horse for I am hard working so we should get on eh?”

The rest soon worked out what to do and there was a mad rush to get to a line. Each Decurion walked down the line counting and when they reached a hundred the men were moved to another line with less numbers in it. The ones at the back were the loners anyway and most groups, like Wolf had run together.

The Prefect stood before them.  He turned to Flavius, “What is well done or good in their language.” Flavius told him and Marius repeated the words.  Many of the warriors smiled and nodded. He looked at the officers and counted them off, “Sextus, your turma, Quintus, Publius, Numerius, Aulus and,” when he reached Wolf’s line, “Flavius.” As the others glanced down their own lines Marius said quietly, “You have some of the younger warriors here, thought you might appreciate that.”

Flavius grinned, “Yes sir, thank you sir.”

“Silence!”

Flavius repeated the command. “Decurion these are the tasks.  Sextus, Quintus and Flavius; build the camp. The rest of us will construct an enclosure for their horses.” As Flavius took his party off Aulus looked aghast.

“Sir, how in Hades’ name will they know what to do?”

“Flavius just taught me half a dozen words.  Let’s see what you can pick up eh?” Aulus still looked dubious.  “This is what we do Aulus and this is how you earn the extra pay.”

The Prefect took off his helmet and breastplate. He pointed at the pile of wood which was nearby and then at a Pannonian. He mimed picking up.  The man grinned and did so.  “See.  Easy.”

By dint of a few words and many gestures the enclosure was built and Marius was pleased to see that the camp was nearly finished.  That had been the most important lesson for the barbarians to learn.  As they travelled across the country they would need to build a camp each night apart from the odd occasion when they could secure shelter in a fortress. He had been pleased by their attitude too for they had worked hard.  There had been a few minor scuffles when clan rivals bumped into each other but Aulus’ hands had dealt with all of them.  Marius had wondered if any of the Pannonians might take umbrage and strike back but one look at the scowling Decurion had quelled any rebellious intent.

A series of wagons pulled out of the fort escorted by the Decurion, Spurius. When it reached the Prefect the veteran grinned.  The Legate thought you might not have thought about preparing food yet so he sent a couple of wagons over. They’ll keep you going for a week or so.”

Marius looked sceptically at Spurius.  “Seems very generous and I have a suspicious nature Decurion so why?”

He tapped his nose, “You have taken the majority of the barbarians who might have caused trouble.  We can now send another cohort to the border and when the Tribune has all of your volunteers then he can send the second cohort.”

“In that case, I would like to thank the Legate.”

By the time they had eaten it was dark.  Flavius struggled with some of the words the Prefect required but they managed so that the Decurions could at least pass basic orders. Each Turma would take turns at night duty and, until chosen men could be found, they would double up.  That way everyone would get some sleep.  Each Decurion went round and counted off ten men, pointed to a tent and said, “Your home.” They would have to learn the word tent later. Technically each tent was intended to house eight men only but this way meant that they did not have to erect all of the tents at once.  The Prefect was keen for them to begin training as soon as possible.  After the meal they had had a lesson learning the words Prefect and Decurion.  Then they learned, “Sir, yes, Sir.”  It was quite amusing to see grown men grinning when they learned a new word and Flavius had had to teach them, ‘shut up’ soon after to stop their chanting ‘yes sir’ over and over.

Wolf and the others were intrigued by the tent and the bedrolls they had been given. “The food I did not like,” was Kadarcs main complaint. None of them had particularly liked the gruel and the bread. “Where was the meat?”

“Perhaps we hunt it?”

Wolf shook his head. “No I think that is the food we will be eating from now on. Are you hungry?” Kadarcs shook his head.”Then stop being a girl.  We are warriors and we must learn to suffer hardship. But we are warriors now!”

“What do you think of our De-cu-rion?” Gerjen split it up to make sure he had said it correctly.

“Good, we must learn their language.  It will make life easier. I think we have a good one.  Some of the others I do not like.  The Bear seems an angry man and I saw him hit the others in his… what was the word they used Gerjen?”

“I think it was tarma.”

“No it sounded like that, it was turma.”

“Good Darvas, yes turma. I for one cannot wait to wage war on this Chauci tribe.”

“But you have never seen them.”

“It doesn’t matter.  We are now soldiers of the Romani and we will fight their enemies.  It is the honourable thing to do.”

They were awake before dawn, that was their way and they left their tent to smell the morning. It was the Bear who was on duty and Aulus Murgus was not happy.  He did not like missing his sleep. He roared up to the ten young men who emerged from their tent.  They did not understand his words, “What the fuck are you doing out of your tent.  Get back in before I rip your fucking hearts out.” However they did understand the smack from the stick he held and they returned to their tent. 

Gerjen rubbed his arm.  “What was that about?”

“I think that the Romani will tell us when we can leave this home.  They seem to like their rules.”Panyvadi was the most thought of the recruits and said less than he spoke but when he did speak the others listened.

The Prefect gathered the around and, through Flavius explained the different signals. He had used a stick to represent the standard they would be using. When they all looked confused Flavius explained that, eventually it would have an animal at the top and, to honour their people, a horse tail underneath it so that when in battle they would know the rallying point. The boredom of listening to instructions and chanting their replies pales.  Wolf was glad that they had Flavius for he just told them to be quiet but the others frequently used their short sticks to hit the ones who became distracted. The afternoon, however brought its own reward, as they mounted their horses.  They practised riding in columns, changing from pairs to fours to eights.  They learned to wheel, although as Darvas said, they had learned to do that the second day they had mounted a horse.  Gerjen nearly had them falling from their horses with laughter when he added, “And I was still on my mother’s nipple that day.”

When they had their first mock charge, in six lines, Wolf thought that all his dreams had come true.  He was so proud when they reined in.  Now they would go to war for they had shown the Pre-fect that they could obey orders. He was somewhat taken aback when Flavius translated his words. “The Prefect is not happy.  That was not good.  Some of you were not in a line and others did not stop when the command was given.  They looked at each other in confusion, what did that matter?  They had stopped and if one warrior was ahead of another, it just showed that he was brave. Seven days later and they had improved so that they could charge, almost in a line and they could stop, almost all at the same time.  More exciting still was the fact that they many of them were issued with the long cavalry sword which they learned was called the spatha.  For the first time Wolf regretted having the Marcomanni sword for the Roman one looked to be a better weapon.  His pride could not bring him to ask for one but he looked enviously at Darvas’ who proudly waved his.

It was during the second week that they were assessed for their skills. They were taken to the gyrus, which was like a second home to them.  Sticks with hay for heads and boards for shields were laid out and they were given the task, in turmae, of galloping at a charge, hurling their javelins and wheeling. Wolf excelled with the javelin; he did not know that the Prefect was keeping score for each turma but he knew that he had done well.  In ten charges he never missed once. When they had to charge the same targets with their swords he, like the others in his group proved to be exceptional.  Perhaps it was their youth or may be their keenness to impress but whatever the reason they became identified as skilled warriors.

Flavius and the Prefect took a turn around the camp as the men cleaned their weapons.  The troopers had all taken to calling, “Hail Prefect” as he passed.  Flavius had tried to stop it but Marius had said, “They are speaking our language.  You have succeeded.  They are like the young child who first learns words and says them over and over again.  No I am pleased with their progress and yours. You also seem to have been fortunate with your turma.  Those youngsters show great potential.”

“They do,” Flavius was proud of their keenness, “I would have chosen one of them for a chosen man but for their youth.”

Marisu looked askance at Flavius, “Strange coming from the youngest decurion in the ala.”

Blushing he said, “Yes sir but I have been in the army for eight years.  None of these have.”

“So what difference does age make? They are all as inexperienced as each other.” He looked at the sky.  “We have another seven days and the last of our recruits should be here.  Are we ready to go?”

“Another three weeks would be better but I know that the Legate needs us sooner rather than later.  Yes we should be ready.  We will need spare mounts.”

“Yes I have given that some thought.  Take your Turma tomorrow and see if you can buy some spares.  Your men may know the best places.  I have enough language now to give commands and your language will be needed for negotiation.  I will get the coins from the Legate. Be back here in four days and then we can leave soon after. I am surprised we have not had more desertions.” Only two men had run and they had found out that they had fled because of a blood feud.  When the Tribune returned he would be given the task of hunting them down and executing them; an unpleasant but necessary task to stop other desertions.

“I think they want to fight sir.  The trouble will be the journey and the temptations along the way.”

“I know. That will be a bridge we shall cross when we come to it.  And we need an animal symbol.  The Ninth has a bull.”

“Which is fine for a legion but we need something which suggests speed and aggression, something to inspire the men.  I will think on it.  By the time you return we may have our standard.”

Wolf was excited to be riding back through his home land for he was now a Roman soldier.  He looked ahead to the Decurion in his red cloak with shield and spear.  One day, he knew , he would have such weapons. They were heading for the village of Cava.  It was the closest to the fort and Wolf had never been there.  After his first run in with the fierce warrior, Wolf had found that he got on with him.  Horse, as some of the men now called him respected honesty and bravery and he saw those same qualities in Wolf. He had had sons and a wife but his village had been raided by the Marcomanni when he was tending his herd and they had been taken as slaves.  That had been five years earlier and he had not found them.  As soon as he heard that the Romans wanted him to fight the allies of the Marcomanni. The Chauci, he couldn’t wait to volunteer. Perhaps he would, one day find his wife and sons.

The herd at Cava’s old village was enormous.  The flat plains around the village were perfect for the breeding of horses but, since the province became pacified, there had not been much demand for horses and the villagers had fallen on such hard times that they had done the unthinkable and eaten some of their herd. When they saw the Roman warrior returning with the column of men he wondered if the warriors they had taken would be returned.  That would go hard with the village for it would be more mouths to feed over the harsh winter.

Flavius gestured Cava forwards. They dismounted and approached the headman. Horse bowed and spoke.  He had been briefed by Flavius on the content but the style was left to him. “The Romans wish to buy horses, elder.”

Smiling the headman nodded.  This was not bad news, it was good news. “How many and what price will he pay?”

“All of them,” Cava smiled at the shocked look on his former headman’s face and then he added, “and a fair price. How many do we have?”

Cava knew the number as well as the elder but he wanted to see if he would be lied to. “There are twice as many as the men you have.”

Cava had told Flavius that already and he nodded. Flavius held out his hand.  “Thank you for your horses.” As the headman took it Flavius added, “We will leave you some breeding pairs for we would buy more in the future.” He smiled, a little sadly, “War is costly for horses old one. And here is the purse of gold. “He handed over the purse. Cava had told him how much it should be and no-one was cheated.

The Pannonians were in familiar territory as they spread out in a circle and surrounded the herd.  The lead stallion was lassoed and tied to the saddle of a warrior and they headed for the next village. Within two days they had sufficient and headed back to the fortress.  Wolf felt honoured that the young Decurion had chosen him, as well as Cava, to be a stallion holder.  He rode a little straighter and a little prouder as they head back to their camp.